


The Reigning Champion

by azephirin



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Anal Sex, Asian Character, Bars and Pubs, Blow Jobs, Character of Color, Community: help_haiti, First Time, Games, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-18
Updated: 2010-03-18
Packaged: 2017-10-08 02:07:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/71594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azephirin/pseuds/azephirin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>And should I just call you Reigning Champion?</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	The Reigning Champion

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [](http://sumofparts.livejournal.com/profile)[**sumofparts**](http://sumofparts.livejournal.com/) for [](http://community.livejournal.com/help_haiti/profile)[**help_haiti**](http://community.livejournal.com/help_haiti/)'s [lightning round](http://community.livejournal.com/help_haiti/2706.html). James originally appeared in [an earlier story](http://archiveofourown.org/works/66449), but I think this fic reads on its own.

“I lose only because not real darts!” Pavel proclaims. “Russia has real darts!”  
“Darts are the same everywhere,” Hikaru says, laughing. “You just don’t want to admit you lost.”  
“Are not the same!” Pavel insists. “In Russia—”  
“Darts were invented,” Gaila and Nyota chorus.  
Then another voice, one Hikaru doesn’t recognize, suggests, “How about a match with the winner?”  
It’s a man about their age, no one Hikaru recognizes, and the others don’t seem to know him, either. Likely not Starfleet: None of them are in uniform, of course, but dreds that long are almost certainly a violation of the academy dress code.  
Plus, Hikaru’s pretty sure he’d have noticed this guy if he’d seen him around campus.  
So, of course, what comes out of his mouth is, “Uh, yeah. Sure.”  
“Come on, everybody, this round’s mine,” Nyota says. “Belly up.” Fifteen seconds later, in a marvelous (and frightening) display of efficiency, she’s got Pavel and Gaila with her at the bar, and Hikaru is alone with Tall, Hot, and Dredlocked. THD is wearing a sweater that shows off some admirable biceps, triceps, and delts; funky rimless glasses; and a Red Sox baseball cap, which does mar his perfection a bit, but, Hikaru decides, better Sox than Yankees.  
“I’m James,” says THD. “And should I just call you Reigning Champion?”  
“Um, no,” says Hikaru, who would really, really like to kick himself, and also possibly Nyota, because she is evil. “My name’s Hikaru.”  
They play, and Hikaru loses because he can’t stop staring at James’s long, elegant fingers, and Hikaru is totally ignoring Nyota’s smirk (and Gaila’s enthusiastic thumbs-up) from where they’ve relocated across the bar.  
Hikaru loves his friends, and also kind of hates them.

  


**************************

James doesn’t live very far away.

  


**************************

As soon as they’re inside, James pushes Hikaru up against the closed door, and he gasps when those clever fingers begin to undo his belt. Suddenly his jeans are open and James has dropped to his knees in front of him, and the only feasible place for Hikaru’s hands is buried in James’s hair, thick and coarse like clusters of raw silk. It’s not long before Hikaru’s crying out, biting his lip, trying desperately not to come as James’s mouth wraps teasing and wet around him—  
—And then James pulls back, grins, and says, “I’m not finished with you yet.”  
“Thank God,” says Hikaru, fervently, and James laughs.

  


**************************

Later, Hikaru gets a little of his own back, flipping James over and using his own fingers to spread James’s legs and tease him, with two and then three, until James is moaning and arching his hips, until James finally breaks down and begs, “Fuck me, Hikaru, please.” And Hikaru does, stretched out on top of him, their hands tangled together and Hikaru’s lips against James’s ear. Hikaru’s never been much for dirty talk, but he can’t help telling James—in choked-out words, with stuttered consonants and gasped vowels—how good it feels, how much he wants James, wants to keep fucking him, wants him to come. And James does, clenching around Hikaru’s cock, head thrown back, eyes closed and mouth open. It’s awkward, but Hikaru has to kiss him then, and that’s how Hikaru’s climax hits him, shuddering and good.  
“Reigning champion indeed,” James says  
Hikaru drops his head between James’s shoulder blades and catches his breath. “That was just the first round,” he says, and doesn’t protest when James flips them and pulls Hikaru under him.  
“Payback,” James says.  
“Yeah?” Hikaru retorts. “Show me what you’ve got.”  
Most of the rest of the night passes like that.

  


**************************

They go out for breakfast the next morning and wind up lingering, comfortable and unhurried. During a discussion (argument) over the mayoral election, Hikaru thinks, _I actually really like this guy,_ and then he thinks, _oh shit._


End file.
